


Glāsmains (or An Ode to Spike's Voice)

by Fraggleshrew



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Erotica, F/M, Light Angst, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 15:37:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14115495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fraggleshrew/pseuds/Fraggleshrew
Summary: Post series 7 finale. Buffy is thinking about Spike and remembering what his voice could do to her.





	Glāsmains (or An Ode to Spike's Voice)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thenewbuzwuzz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenewbuzwuzz/gifts).



> Originally posted on Elysian Fields.
> 
> Inspired by thenewbuzwuzz sharing a sensual Latvian word on Chatzy...  
> Glāsmains - an adjective in Latvian related to the verb 'caress' used in relation to touch, texture, sound, sensation.
> 
> Thanks to EF's All4Spike for the beta.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing except my words - just playing in Joss' sandbox

When she remembered Spike (and she tried not to since bringing him to mind made the hole where her heart should be ache), it was his voice she missed purring in her ear.   
Even when they were enemies and exchanging barbed arrows with sharp heads of words aimed to hurt, those very words when spoken in that husky voice of his always caused a slight shiver; be it of dread or anticipation she was never sure. It wasn’t just the accent - she’d heard it said that British accents were sexy as hell in general (except westcountry… she’d met an English slayer from some place called Somerset and sexy was not the first thing that sprang to mind…) - it was the tone and timbre of his voice that made her quiver. And man did he know how to put it to use. He could as easily choose to caress as to punish.   
There was not much she liked to recall from their few months of epically dysfunctional “shagging” as he would have put it, not because the sex was not truly astonishing, but because she was so full of self loathing that she behaved in ways that made her ashamed. It was not having sex with Spike that she regretted so much as the way she had treated him; pushing him to the very edge so he’d ended up making so serious an error of judgement that it ripped the strange trust between them into ribbons. But when she did think of that time, she liked to imagine his voice. It was silkily seductive and made the acts they performed with and on each other more than just the sinful filth she was convinced they were at the time. He showed his love not in his words or actions when they were in his crypt; she would not allow that. Instead he put his adoration into his voice - making love to her with it even as he described the most debauched things he wanted to do to her.   
Once, after they’d sated each other with their violent coupling, he had got her into those handcuffs in an attempt to make her stay. Knowing that he was not permitted to show her any softness, he had lain next to her and surreptitiously played with her hair as he ghosted his cold hand just above her skin while whispering dark fantasies in her ear. She had writhed towards his fingers, desperately trying to make contact, a tight aching line of desire running from nipples to core, but he had held firm, maintaining his litany of depravity in that soft honeyed baritone until she came just from the thought of it.


End file.
